Happy Birthday, Draco Malfoy!
by The Beedle the Bard
Summary: Just a short Drarry fic I wrote to celebrate the special occasion. Enjoy


**HAPPY BIRTHDAY DRACO MALFOY! Whew! I wrote this in 24 minuites to be exact. I just heard from Twitter that it was Draco's birthday, and, of course, I NEEDED to celebrate it-and what better way to do that other than write a short fic? Right? Ha! I don't even care if it's not his birthday. I just needed to write something. I've kinda been in a depressed mode, even seeking out help from Disney channel. Hopefully this will get the creative juices flowing! /Fans myself **

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The cake was terrible. But Draco was not about to tell Pansy that. She had worked hard to make it the muggle way. And in all honesty, he had forgotten it was his birthday in the first place. It's not like he needed an extravagant ball room celebration.

"Oi," Draco snapped his head up to see Weasley, Granger, Ginerva and Potter sauntering their way over. "We heard it was your birthday," the redhead grudgingly shoved a red box into his hands. "So we got you something."

Beside him, Ginerva Weasley grinned, "We put a lot of thought into it. I hope you like it." Smiling is never a good sign.

"Thank you," Draco raised a suspicious, perfectly trimmed, eyebrow and turned his attention to the box. "But you shouldn't have—not because I'm flattered," beside him he heard Weasel mutter, "Prick," to Harry. He just chuckled. "—But because I never get celebrations." The gang looked at him, surprised. Draco wanted to savor the look on their faces. Ha! _That _was the best present _anyone _could have given him.

"You what?"

"Even Harry got a birthday part thrown by the Dursleys!"

"Yeah, and Scabbers—I mean Wormtail got one…"

Their responds came in a flurry, drowning him in noise; he shrugged it off.

"Father didn't see the significance in celebrating," he glanced over at Theodore and Greg (though, in Draco's mind, he would always be Goyle) and rolled his eyes at their snickering. They probably already knew what the gift was. Blaise was off with Ginerva, chatting up a storm. Or should he say, flirting up a storm.

"Well," it was the first time Potter had spoken. "Open it," he beckoned towards the gift.

"Is it a stuffed ferret?" Draco growled.

Potter grinned, "Maybe—but you never know if you don't look." Begrudgingly, Draco opened the gift. It _was _in fact a ferret. But it wasn't stuffed. He quickly learned that when it attacked his face. How could he have not heard the scratching from the box?

"Good thing you opened it," Granger said pointedly. "I thought it was going to suffocate in there." Draco marveled at the strange creature resting struggling in his grasp. It was white and…noisy. He smiled at the animal and instantly it stopped squirming. It looked at him curiously.

"What's her name?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Well," Granger relaxed her tensed shoulders. "_His _name is, er, whatever you decide it to be."

"Thank you, Granger, Potter, and Weasels."

"Draco!" Pansy barked, interrupting their "touching moment." He flinched. "_Why didn't you tell me that the cake was terrible!" _she gripped his shoulder, her nails pierced his shirt and dug into his flesh.

It was a test. Draco knew it. So, he smiled and said, "It was not terrible, Pansy darling." His steady Slytherin smile twisted onto his face. "It was delightful." Beside him, Gregory Goyle was withering on the floor, saying something about the lack of sugar. Ignoring him, Pansy seemed satisfied with his Draco's answer and took a seat beside him, smiling respectfully at the Griffindors.

"Well," she brushed off her smock. "Glad to know that _someone _here has taste. Now, what did the—_ohmygod whatinthehellisthat?" _she shielded herself from the ferret using Draco.

"Calm down, dear," Draco patted her arm. He couldn't help but notice Potter's grin wavering. He chose not to over think it. "It's a ferret."

"A what?" she was hysterical.

"A ferret—his name is…er…Barthmellow." He gave the others a challenging look. "Complaints?"

"None," Weasley coughed. He linked his arm through Granger's and began to pull her away. "We don't want to—what was the word? Impose? Ah, never mind that." He tugged at her more. "We don't want to crash your first ever party, so we'll be leaving now. Harry?"

"Uh," he glanced over at Draco, "In a second. I'll catch up with you!"

Meanwhile terror finally gave into Pansy and she ran away screeching about a ravenous beast. "That woman," he sighed. "Did you need something, Potter?"

"Harry," he plopped on an open seat beside him. "Call me Harry."

Draco's sarcasm overruled whatever he was going to say, "Yes, and you may call me Jordan if you so please."

"Okay, Jordan," Pott-_Harry_ gave him a lopsided smile. Draco's heart stuttered. "So, are you dating Pansy—or anyone?"

Draco replied stiffly, "No."

"Good," and he leaned in closer to Draco. But he wouldn't stop moving and Draco, being the imbecile that he was, froze in place instead of _also _moving in. "Er," Harry began to reel back, his face was as read as a tomato.

"Wait," he grabbed Harry's collar and shoved them closer. And closer. Until they were kissing. And kissing. And kissing. And they didn't stop until they heard a loud whistle coming from Theo.

"Oh shut it, Nott," Draco grumbled, lacing his fingers through Harry's. Okay, so maybe _that _was the best present he could have received.

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**I don't own a thing. Really, I don't. **

**And as always, constructive criticism. I welcome it! Woop!**


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